Not So Average
by CoffeeTea
Summary: He was just the not-so-average perfect guy. She was the not-so-average slacker. But they both seem to hide things behind their smiles, laughs, and carefree attitudes. Can opposites really be this alike? Fuji/OC
1. Tutors SUCK

Not So Average

Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis, and I don't own Fuji Syuusuke (sad, right?)

Summary: He was just the not-so-average perfect guy. She was the not-so-average slacker. But they both seem to hide things behind their smiles, laughs, and carefree attitudes. Can opposites really be this alike?

**You guys are probably glaring at the screen, demanding for me to continue my other stories, right? Sorry! Uhmm I wrote this on the first day of school- yknow, when you do absolutely **_**nothing**_**? Yeah, well, for Freshman at least we don't. So, I decided to type it up- my FIRST 'OC' fic!**

**Btw- BOLD is English in this story, okay?**

/-/-/-/

"The clouds look fake," I mumbled, looking across the room, out the window. "They're too pretty." I sighed and rested my head on top of my folded arms. Looking outside again, I frowned. The glare that the sun gave through the window made me shield my eyes.

"Takamato-san," A glance in the direction of the voice. "Takamato-san." Fiercer this time, more strict. Finally, I brought myself to look up at the teacher with a questioning gaze. He sighs and repeats the question, talking as if he were continuously asking me the same thing.

A whispered answer, and my eyes flit to the side. How generous. The Tensai of the school was giving me- me, Takamato Komiki- an answer. Stubbornly, I focused my gaze elsewhere; opting for glaring at the wall in order to unleash some of my unexpected jealousy of the person sitting next to me.

Afterall, I don't need _his_ help. Using his answer would mean that I depended on him. Using his answer would mean that I actually thought he was correct- not saying that he was wrong or anything. Using his answer would basically mean that I had given up.

It was my pride. My pride that always kept me going. I would _never_ give into the seemingly perfect tensai of the class. Of the school. No, that was simply too much. So, instead of answering the teacher, I stared at the wall again, waiting for the bell to ring. If I didn't do anything, then I wouldn't catch Fuji Syuusuke's attention. And I wouldn't bring my hopes up.

It's been a week since that day, and throughout this week, my English teacher has been trying desperately to get me to participate with the class. Finally, Saturday- most likely the best school day, but today… the worst.

"Takamato-san, stay after class," I halted my steps towards the door, and turned towards the teacher.

"Yes?"

"Well, I've been talking to your other teachers…" he began, and I rolled my eyes. Typical. "And it seems like you get passing grades for all class except-" Yes, yes. I know that my English grade is a bit… lacking. "this class. So, I've- no, us teachers, have decided that you-" I stared at him incredulously. "Yes, you. You are going to get…" he paused dramatically, "a tutor."

I glared at him. "No way _in hell_." I slammed my fists down on his desk, ignoring the warning look I got from him for swearing. "No." I shook my head. "No way, you can't make me."

"Yes, we called your parents and-" I tuned him out, sighing tiredly. He had won. He had called my parents. "With Fuji-san tomorrow at noon." I looked up. Wait, _what_ did he just say to me? Did he say _Fuji_?

/-/-/-/

I was sprawled across my bed, slightly dizzy from being upside down. Staring at the T.V, I sighed. It was Sunday. The horrid day. "Well, better get ready," I yawned as I walked into the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. Sweat pants or gym shorts? Sweatshirt or baggy t-shirt? Jeans? Hollister? Settling for the most comfortable- gym shorts and a large sweatshirt, I walked down my hall to the kitchen. Putting some peanuts on my toast, I hummed and walked around the house.

-knock knock-

I looked at the clock under the television. Twelve already? Walking towards the door, I rubbed my eyes. Opening the door to see a very handsome, very awake, very smart-looking tensai, I mentally growled. Why did he have the ability to look good with whatever he was wearing? I wasn't fair. Giving another small glance over, I noticed a scarf and a large jacket.

I scooted to one side of the doorway. "Well, come on in." I stared at him and waited for him to take his few steps inside. When I closed the door, I turned around. "Pretty…" I mumbled to myself, knowing that he couldn't hear me.

Once we were seated together at the table, I eyed him warily. "I can pay you to not be her, y'know?" I said, in a rather desperate tone of voice. His smile seemed to widen, and he didn't say anything. "Uh, okay?" I looked at him, wondering if he was actually listening to me.

"So, let's begin our study session!" he said rather… enthusiastically. Perhaps, he didn't hear my offer. "Okay, I know for a _fact_," he stressed the word, "that you know English fairly well. Afterall, you _are_ my seating partner, and you used to be able to keep up." I stared. Was he complimenting me or criticizing me? _Neither_. My mind screamed. He stared at me in a peculiar way. He was _blaming_ me.

"**I just went to buy a pumpkin for Halloween.** Repeat." He smiled, and I rolled my eyes. This was too easy.

"**I just went to buy a pumpkin for Halloween.**"

He smiled even more, confusing me. "**Say it in Japanese.**"

"I just went to buy a pumpkin for Halloween."

"**You seem pretty good at English, you know? So maybe, you're just… holding back in class? I think that what you really need…is something fun to do!**" He added a cheery tone, and I eyed him with suspicion. What did he mean by… 'fun'?

"What… type of fun?"

"**Get ready, Takamato-chan, because you're going to learn… tennis!**"

I was shocked. Not _that _sport. I wouldn't. I _couldn't_. It wasn't possible. It wasn't real. It wasn't _fair_. And then vaguely, in the back of my mind, I noticed that he had been speaking in English the whole time.

/-/-/-/

**A/N: See? Short, sweet, and totally cliché! Ahahahhah. What do you say? Review? Also, remember;; I can be a beta-reader! So, c'mon! Let's take stories! Yes. I also do Fic Requests, okay? I also have a poll about my next storie(s)! SO, go check it out, kay?**


	2. Tennis iswhat?

Not So Average

Disclaimer: I own…nothing. Bleh.

Summary: He was just the not-so-average perfect guy. She was the not-so-average slacker. But they both seem to hide things behind their smiles, laughs, and carefree attitudes. Can opposites really be this alike?

**Okay. Since I haven't updated in a while, I will update one story... a day, okay?**

/-/-/-/

"**So, are you ready?**" he asked, as that carefree smiled slipped into place. I gave a short nod and started following him out the door stiffly. Shooting a glance behind myself, I checked the house in case I had forgotten anything. Nope. Nothing out of place. Everything was in order.

"Have you played tennis before?" He asked, slightly turning to look at me. I shook my head in the negative, and then my eyes lit up.

"Wait! I think so- when I was a kid, though." I nodded to myself, and stared at Fuji. "I don't really remember, though. You see… it was a _long_" I stressed the word, "time ago." And I clicked my tongue awkwardly, looking at the ground.

We got to the courts and stood on our respective sides. I traced patterns with my foot nervously, looking up to Fuji in question. "So…" I began slowly, "what do you want me to do, exactly?" His smile grew wider, and he replied with an apathetic 'Just hit the ball back', and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. _Yeah, hit it back. But __**how**__?_

I settled for awkwardly holding the racquet and adjusting my grip. "Umm, okay? Here we go…" And he served the ball moderately fast to my side. Seeing the ball come close to me, my eyes widened and I ducked. "Ahem. Uh, yeah," I began speaking, "that was just a… practice?" And I looked over to his side to see him in a silent laughter. I huffed. _Well, excuse me._

I swung the racquet a few times. It wouldn't be any harder than badminton- right? Just… hit it back. I lunged for the ball and swung with my wrist. "Ow…?" I stared, confused, at my wrist. What happened? I heard a small chuckle and looked up into Fuji's eyes. "Yes?"

"You need to swing with your arms. Not your wrist." _Umm, okay? What?_

I sighed and stood up straight. "Okay, okay. I get it…" although I really _didn't_ understand. The ball was served again, and I ran towards it, my arm outstretched. "Oh." I puffed out a breath, confused. It was harder than I had first expected, but I _could_ remember the small times I had played tennis with my brothers… back in the day.

Sighing again, I frowned. This wasn't fun at all. I thought tennis was supposed to be fun.

/-/-/-/

"_Come one, one more time!" the little girl cried out, smiling to her brothers. They sighed and then smiled back at her, throwing up a yellow ball and hitting it to the other side. The girl rushed over and hit the tennis ball back with speed, the brothers missing the ball._

"_Try again, little sister. Make it faster, and add a twist to your body." They smiled at her and she furrowed her brows in confusion. _

"_Okay!" she called out, giggling._

/-/-/-/

**A/N: It just had to end there. At the flashback. I'm serious. Sorry.**

**Uhmmm, cactus? LOLsorry. I've just been really busy and I haven't done English homework yet- oops.**


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